Seredipity: Book Two in the Doctors Smith & Saxon series
by ss9
Summary: Modern AU: Why is it all the good men are either married, gay or MIA? Dr Missy Saxon is an attractive, confident, some would say powerful woman who doesn't need a man to complete her life. Still even she gets lonely and loneliness can be a powerful motivator, but will it lead her down the right path? Or will giving into it simply throw her life and that of others into chaos?


-/-

If Missy Saxon was being honest with herself and being unfailing honest was something of a weakness with her, often being accused of being honest to the point of bluntness, honestly her date was a jerk and it was the last time she allowed herself to be set up like this.

She was sure Mary had meant well, her secretary really didn't have a mean bone in her body but just because Mary was the best coffee maker Missy had ever employed it did not mean she knew the type of man Missy was interested in. Not that Missy had any better luck herself. No all the men she might find passingly attractive were married or gay… or handsome and mysterious and clearly not interested in her…even though she had thought for a moment…

Still she had a date on a Saturday night and the only thing worse than going to a black tie event with a jerk was being stuck at home alone again with only a family size tub of ice-cream and fifty shades of grey to entertain herself with.

Besides on paper Joshua Macintosh was a good match. Educated to PhD level, the chair of physics at a prestigious university, and the author behind a series of science publications that were in the process of being turned into a BBC Four series; he even had most of his own hair left which when you got to the pool of men she was still attractive too…well it was a rarity.

He was still a jerk though and if he tried to look down the neckline of her dress or tried to put his hand on her arse one more time…well let's just say he better have voice recognition software on his computer otherwise that next book might be a little late in production after Missy accidentally broke one or two of his fingers.

"So Melissa…"

"It's Missy." Missy corrected him again reaching for her double whiskey, as she eschewed the traditional champagne at these receptions, and looked around for anything or anyone to save her.

Yet these proper publishing affairs were a little short on her usual crowd of bohemian drop outs. She doubted any of the suited and booted fellows here had ever spent a night out under the stars just to see the sun come up, or gotten the urge to run out into a rainstorm and dance.

"Sorry Missy… people are starting to go through to the tables for dinner so shall we?" Joshua asked offering her his arm in what he probably thought was a suave gesture yet which in Missy's eyes just came over as shallow and over rehearsed. Still Missy was only two fingers of whiskey down and thusly hadn't yet lost all of her social skills and so she accepted with as much of a polite smile as she could muster.

Going to the table meant other people and hopefully there would be one other person on their table that she could converse with?

So it was disappointing to find their table still relatively empty.

Joshua introduced her to his rotund publisher Douglas and his painfully slender wife Vicky who were sponsoring this and another table at the event and yet when it came to taking their seats Missy could barely contain her scowl as she was seated between her "date" and one of the two still vacant seats. Meaning unless she shouted across the table most of the evening the height of her conversation was going to be coming from the Jerk…joy…

"Are we expecting anyone else?" Missy asked Vicky politely barely masking the desperation in her voice.

"Just the Doctor and Clara…He's another one of Douglas writers." Vicky replied with a tight smile, yet with all the plastic surgery the woman had obviously undergone it was probably impossible for her to smile any other way. It also didn't take any of Missy's years of psychological training to see Vicky's opinion of this writer was less than favourable for some reason, which in the grand scheme of things could only endear him to her.

If only she could work out why the names Doctor and Clara together seemed to strike some sort of a chord? Perhaps another whiskey was in order…something to lubricate the old grey cells…

"Do you think they will actually come?" The Jerk joked, winking at Vicky in an overtly flirtatious gesture even as he had the nerve to rest his arm over the back of Missy's chair. "The last I heard the poor chap had something like a nervous breakdown."

"Actually he's doing much better." Douglas insisted shooting his wife a look that fall stalled any bitchy comment she might have been on the verge of spitting out and Missy found her opinion of Douglas improving by the second. "I've seen the first few chapters of his new book and it's another bestseller I just know it."

"Well that's good then." The Jerk replied with a tight smile, yet it was clearly obvious he meant the opposite…jealous much…Missy had to hide her snort in her glass when her date actually turned to pay her some attention.

"Ah Doctor there you are and Clara my you are looking lovelier than ever. We were starting to worry about you. Please do take your seats I think they are going to start serving dinner soon." Douglas had clearly found his missing writer, yet Missy was far more interested in flagging down one of the passing waiters.

"Apologies Douglas it was all I could do drag him away from the typewriter this evening." A soft sweet voice replied, hesitant and uncertain and Missy caught a glimpse of large brown eyes set in a delicate elfin face as she turned…

Turning to catch a waiter when she saw him…him…here…standing just by her shoulder and it seemed as though the weight and pull of her gaze caught up with him as well, those blue grey eyes went from a fleeting glance to suddenly bearing down into her own blue gaze.

If it had been anyone else in this situation Missy would have considered it almost funny.

One moment Dr John Smith was barely repressing a scowl beneath those fabulously expressive eyebrows of his then next it looked like someone had knocked the wind right out of him. He was staring, unabashedly staring and Missy felt herself shiver a little in the force of that intense gaze, the mere presence of the man was almost enough to freeze time itself.

"Doctor sit down." Clara's command was softly spoken but there was no denying the potency of her words as Dr John Smith obeyed them with a second thought and yet not once did his gaze waver from Missy herself and she could almost feel the others becoming aware of the unusual occurrence.

It was just so potent and Missy almost couldn't bring herself to be the one who broke the spell, she would have been content to drown in those eyes of his, and yet she had to for both their sakes.

"Hello Dr Smith." Missy greeted him politely. "I do hope you are well."

"Dr Saxon it has been some time." John's voice was so deep and gravelly and did wonderful things to her skin; Missy could feel goosebumps breaking out over her arms.

"Oh you know each other." The Jerk had to be the one to ask, his arm still possessively positioned over the back of her chair and Missy realised she was consciously angling herself away from him…or perhaps it was just the gravitation pull that John Smith seemed to exert on her?

"Of course all Scottish people know each other." Missy quipped and the others laughed finally breaking the awkward tension that had fallen over the table, all save the now awkward silent tension that existed between her and John Smith…and his Clara. The girl might look like window dressing at first glance but Missy could sense her strong protectiveness.

Just a friend…my arse…it was just so typical of her luck and now she was stuck next to him for the evening.

They were sat less than a foot apart yet it might as well have a mile. From being unable to stop staring at her John suddenly seemed unable to bear looking at her, her or anyone else as now his powerful gaze was boring solely into the table top those athletic eyebrows of his drawn into so deep a frown that Missy half expected the tablecloth to set alight.

"Well I am thrilled you could make it Doctor and you too Clara it seems like far too long since we have seen you." Douglas insisted catching a waiter and ordering another round of drinks for the table.

"Well we are delighted to be here aren't we Doctor?" Clara prompted yet it seemed all her other half was capable of was nodding in distracted agreement and it was left to Clara Missy noted to flush slightly in embarrassment and offer up an explanation.

"You know how he gets when someone interrupts his writing Douglas." Clara offered generously, her dark bambi eyes shifting nervously between Douglas and the Doctor who was being even more taciturn than normal.

"Well if he keeps like writing like he has been these last few weeks then I can only forgive him." Douglas replied jovially. "Every one of my editors is raving about the work you have sent in so far, so different from your last few pieces, so fresh…"

Great so now they were going to talk about something she couldn't even contribute to. Scowling Missy reached for her whiskey, taking a large sip just as Douglas continued.

"And this new heroine of yours…Marsaili she's wonderful, truly a star of the sea…"

And she choked, the whiskey went down the wrong way and it burned, oh god it burned yet that was nothing compared to the burn of humiliation…that complete arse. ..How dare he use her name?

Struggling for breath Missy did her best not to spit out the remains of her drink over the table.

"Melissa are you alright?" The Jerk at least acted concerned even if he once again mangled her name yet it was not his hand patting her bare back, there was only one other possible candidate, and that knowledge merely fuelled Missy's fury.

Why the hell did he have to have such wonderful feeling hands as well…large and strong and just a little rough to the touch? It was like having your nose rubbed in it.

"You should have stuck with champagne Melissa." Vicky's less than helpful comment did nothing but stoke the fire.

"I know I told her…"

"Would you like me to get you some water Melissa?" Clara offered helpfully even if her eyes flickered nervously between Missy's red face and the familiar way her Doctor seemed to be touching this other woman's back.

"It's Missy!" She retorted angrily pushing herself up from the table as she wrapped the shreds of her dignity around herself, retrieving her little clasp purse from the table.

"If you'll all please excuse me." Yet it wasn't a request and Missy didn't wait for permission, storming away from the table as though a devil were on her heels.

It wasn't until she was in the relative sanctuary of the ladies room that Missy could actually breathe again. Staring up at her reflection in the large ornate mirror Missy ran her hands over her enflamed face, cheeks that burned with a combination of outrage and humiliation. She could not go back out there. She was not going back out there. If she went back out there someone was going to be on the receiving end of a Glasgow Kiss and that was just for starters.

Probably Mr Jerk or Silicon Vicky...although the prospect of clawing up pretty Miss Clara's face also appealed to a darker part of her…

No…No…she was not going down that path, not again. Violence was not the answer to her problems even if felt so damn good at the time.

Yet part of her blamed herself for even putting herself in this situation to start with. She was a confident professional woman; she had managed perfectly well for the last ten years without a man by her side. She hadn't wanted one not after Theodore; no one could have hoped to compete with her childhood sweetheart. No one could ever fill a room up like he could and Missy had never felt complete anywhere but at his side and by some miracle he had felt the same and it had all been wonderful up until the accident…

She hadn't even been that bothered by her single status until recently…until that damn man had walked into her office and reminded her exactly what she was missing. John Smith that man had a lot to answer for, first he awakens something that Missy had been quite happy ignoring for years, and then he pushes her into humiliating herself in public.

God she wanted to just wrap her hands around his neck and…

Well there were far too many things she wanted to do to John Smith and that was the heart of the problem.

Well she just had to forget him and that started by getting the hell out of here. It had been a terrible date so far anyway, she really didn't care about leaving the Jerk in the lurch, let him perve all over Vicky for the evening. She doubted anyone else at the table would care, besides it would at least give them something to talk about, the boring bunch.

Checking her reflection once more Missy was satisfied that no trace of the incident lingered upon her face, picking up her clutch and reassembling her armour she was ready to face the world once more and so she confidently pushed open the bathroom door, her momentum taking her two…three strides forward and then she saw him. Standing there half hidden in the shadows…watching and waiting, for her apparently and Missy felt her previous fury return times ten as hot as John Smith elegantly pushed his long frame away from the wall and approached her.

"I just wanted to check you were alright." He began carefully, those beautiful blue grey eyes of his sweeping over her body as if checking for any lingering damage and Missy hated herself for the way his voice and attention still affected her, already she could feel her nipples hardening against the silky fabric of her dress.

"Besides I think we need to… talk…" He added and Missy knew without having to check just where his gaze was currently resting.

This had to stop now.

Stalking forward Missy noticed the moment he picked up on her anger, yet instead of looking even a little contrite the damn man had the nerve to stare back at her in the same superior calm manner…and was that a hint of amusement glinting in those eyes of his?

"Go to hell!" Missy hissed her pointer finger jabbing her fingernail sharply into his chest to emphasis every word, then turning sharply she began her triumphant exit.

In her head it was the perfect parting shot, she at least had the satisfaction of that, until one of those large strong hands wrapped itself around her upper arm and instead of leaving under her own steam she was now being propelled out of the doors by him.

She should have wrenched herself free; she should have demanded he let her go. Yet it seemed when it came to John Smith her willpower was none existent, clearly he was her kryptonite, but unlike superman she didn't even have the desire let alone the will to resist.

-/-

John couldn't remember the last time someone had gotten him good and angry. He had spent much of his life frustrated with those around him; people were just too slow and difficult to deal with on the whole…too stupid and selfish so was it any wonder he preferred the company of his own characters?

So in the place of strong emotional reactions ennui had set in and John had drifted into being an observer of life rather than a participant.

Yet it seemed Missy Saxon was the exception to that rule amongst others. No one had spoken to him like that in years; no one would dare save this spitfire of a woman with her too bright blue eyes. Still that was no excuse for the fury currently coursing through his body. Perhaps it was having his apology thrown back in his face?

He was not a man to vocalise his feelings easily, he never had been, and his grandmother had often remarked he would prefer to swallow his own tongue rather than admit to some fault. Over the years his intelligence had placed him in the enviable position of rarely being wrong, or at least having to admit to a mistake. Personally his tactics of avoidance had extended to emotional situations and John had rarely allowed anyone close enough that he felt the need to mind his behaviour enough to apologise when he made a mistake.

Yet he had felt bad at the table when Missy had choked. He was the only one who could have known the reason, could have known he was the cause of her shock and embarrassment. He had taken her name and her image and if he was being honest the first impressions of her and turned them into his latest character, something he had never done before, and he hadn't even had the courtesy to inform her of the fact or more to the point to ask her permission.

The uncomfortable feeling of guilt had settled in his stomach and John had been in the position of ignoring it and trying to choke down five courses of dinner on top of it or…he could at least offer an explanation...an apology to a woman he had come to admire in the half an hour they had spent in conversation, and the woman who had gracefully offered him a easy way out of what could have potentially been an awkward situation just moments before.

So he had excused himself from the table, guilty ignoring Clara's questioning expression as he abandoned her to the mercies of their dinner companions. He had skulked in the shadows outside of the ladies bathroom like some sort of pervert, his hands steadily getting clammier as he tried to run through in his head just what he was going to say.

Then before he had more than his first line Missy was striding out of the door and his superior brain failed him…damn she really was wearing the hell out of that dress…and the uncomfortable memory of just how soft her skin had been under his fingertips resurfaced and he was reduced to the state of a babbling fool. Yet none of that justified her reaction. How dare she tell him to go to hell?

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to follow her again, let alone take hold of her like he had done, yet the die had been cast and John was being swept along on a wave of anger and insulted pride. Perhaps it was simply his inability to allow anyone else the last word raising its ugly head or was it just another excuse to touch her and feel that bolt of electricity thunder through him. He clearly wasn't the only affected, he had seen enough to confirm that and it filled him with a heady sort of power that drowned out the rational centres of his brain.

Clara…Clara would be wondering where he was…

Pushing Missy out of the double doors John steered them out of the lobby and away from the milling people, for a moment he paused then destination in mind he barrelled along pulling Missy along with him. She at least had the good sense to try and keep up and not make a scene in front of all these people.

After a few steps up to the mezzanine level John led her into the now empty snug bar, pushing her down into one of the chesterfield leather booths he stared down into her angrily flushed face for a moment before taking a seat himself and waving over the waiter.

"Two glasses of single malt, Oben if you have it or Lagavulin, a dash of water no ice."

"Very good sir, we do have a bottle of Oben distillers' edition…" The waiter trailed off.

Staring down into Missy's gaze that seemed to mock him John couldn't tear his gaze away from those blazing blue eyes, merely nodding.

"Make them doubles." Missy countered and John had to quell a snort of amusement, she was going for her pound of flesh after all.

"Very good Madam."

Waiting until they were once more alone John swallowed down the nerves that were once again fluttering in his stomach. Well she was here, he was here… "You're very quiet."

"I have said all I intended to say."

"Yes I recall you were very rude."

"Mr Pott meet Mr Kettle." Missy mockingly retorted and John had to clench his jaw to restrain an equally flippant reply.

Fortunately their ever efficient waiter chose that moment to reappear with their drinks and then vanish just as quickly.

Picking up his drink John stared down into the amber depths, taking a sip of the strong alcohol and feeling it burn warmth all the way down to his stomach. "I didn't intend to make you angry."

"Really what exactly did you expect on finding out you had used my name?" Missy's eyes glinted dangerously as she sipped at her whiskey, it was definitely the good stuff and it was rare to find someone who could appreciate that.

"Flattered?" John snorted, watching as Missy's eyes narrowed as though assessing a target.

"Yes well I am sure you would be equally as flattered if I included a test case about a paranoid narcissist called John Smith in one of my journal papers?"

"Touché." John had to remark, his gaze flicking back up to meet Missy's. "It really was meant as a compliment you know."

"And how exactly would I know that? God knows what you have been writing; I could be a syphilis ridden whore for all I know?"

"I can assure you that you are not." John replied softly. "I am very protective of my creations and Marsaili is probably one of my finest, I think, no I know you would be proud to allow her to carry your name."

"You still could have told me." Missy pouted yet there was no longer venom lacing her tone and John couldn't help but sigh in relief as the anger seemed to seep out of her.

"I'm sorry." The words tripped easily off his tongue, so easily that for a moment John hadn't even realised he had said them out loud.

"Then you are forgiven on one condition." Missy insisted a half smile playing about her lips as she brought her glass to her lips.

"Just how much whiskey is this going to cost me?" John asked nervously surprised when his innocent question caused Missy to giggle and he realised how much he liked the sound.

"I want you tell me about your book."

Shaking his head John couldn't agree to this, he never talked about his books, not whilst he was writing them he only even sent drafts into the publishers this time because he had needed to prove he was actually writing again. "Oh no…no I don't…"

"Then you're not forgiven and I may have to sue you." Missy insisted blue eyes glinting mischievously and for a moment the similarity between the woman before him and the woman who had been living in his head the past few weeks was so stark that it took John's breath away.

"On what grounds?" John stuttered struggling to keep his wits about him.

"I'll find something darling." Missy retorted smugly and John felt his blood pressure spike as she drawled over her endearment, there was something so very predatory about the way she said it and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"There isn't time to do it justice…"

"Then meet me for coffee, Monday at two, the bakery I told you about."

He shouldn't…he should politely refuse and yet John found himself nodding.

"Well then it's a date." Missy retorted lifting her glass to her lips and drowning the last of the amber liquid and John could only watch mesmerised as traces of the liquid remained on her lips. "Thank you for the drink but I really must be on my way…"

"Yes we should be heading back in…"

Clara…God Clara would be worried sick and when he walked back in with Missy…he would have to explain how he knew her and why he went after her and Clara already had a difficult enough time accepting how single-minded he was about his writing. If she had any idea that his latest obsession had been inspired by an actual person…

"Actually do you mind if I don't accompany you?" Missy asked softly a faint sheen of pink gracing her cheeks, and John wasn't sure if it was from the double whiskey she had all but downed or from the memory of her earlier exit but it suited her and he almost felt guilty for noticing. "I would much rather take the opportunity to sneak out."

"Oh…right…of course…Well good night then." John stuttered, inwardly relieved beyond words when Missy stood, leaving him to fumble with his wallet to pay the bill to once again avoid the awkwardness of leave taking rituals that he hated. Congratulating himself on an awkward situation avoided until Missy's parting words brought him back to earth with a bump.

"Night John… I'll see you Monday."

-/-


End file.
